


Power and Control

by orphan_account



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Food, Oral Sex, Other, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:10:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1280635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she began Prowl didn’t react. It wasn’t a disappointment, it was a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power and Control

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be slightly happy, kinky, fun... I don't exactly know what went wrong.   
> Too much Marina and the Diamonds. 
> 
> ALSO, there isn't nearly enough Prowl/Arcee out there, I don't think I've seen one fic! If anyone knows of a Prowl/Arcee fic can you link it to me please? I'm really shocked the ship isn't more popular. 
> 
> Lastly, is it spelled doughnut or donut?

Prowl had learned how to be stoic. It had taken eons of practice but he was proud of himself for mastering a solid facade. 

He was also thankful for his inexpressive face. If Chromedome guessed what was happening to his superior under the desk then Prowl was certain he‘d lose the ability and as well as the right to command others. 

Really, he should have never let things get this far.

Chromedome was stood in front of him yammering about _something_ , Primus! Prowl really need to get his head together, but - - but 

His lips twitched. 

_Teeth_ sunk into his thigh and he couldn’t react, couldn’t kick, couldn’t do anything but bear the sensation while every piston in his rigid body tightened and the bottom of his tanks dropped. 

Chromedome was still talking - no apologising. That’s why a box of confectionary had appeared on his desk. It was a gift from Chromedome because he was apologising for...something.

“Are you okay, Prowl?” Chromedome’s visor blinked with concern. Prowl’s head jerked up, for a glorious moment the ruthless pawing at his interface equipment paused and Prowl was able to gather his thoughts.

“Fine.” He spat. 

“It’s just that...you seem a little flustered...”

Prowl baulked and his cooling fans stuttered. 

“I’m completely alright Chromed _OM_ e.”

There was a glossa lapping at the seams of his interface. It was so sudden he couldn’t block the shrill excitement from his voice. Chromedome’s visor darkened. Prowl tried to focus on his subordinate rather than the devious tongue delving into sensitive circuits between overlapping armour. But she was persistent and Prowl was crumbling. 

He inhaled sharply. 

The selfish glitch was jeopardising her own cover. The fool. Did she understand what was at stake because Prowl was thoroughly certain she was aware of how she making him feel.

This had been taking place since Chromedome had announced his arrival and Prowl had hastily squashed her under his desk. She was meant to be hiding there, quietly, but as the insipid exchange Prowl and Chromedome shared dragged on Arcee decided to spend her time undercover productively. 

There was some thing suddenly irresistible about that polished black interface perched  in front of her face. 

 When she began Prowl didn’t react. It wasn’t a disappointment, it was a challenge. He wasn’t deterring her and Arcee was glad of the opportunity to test her capabilities. She teased the mech. Fingers and glossa sliding seductively over the neglected parts of Prowl. Kissing along his lean legs. Massaging his hips. Tantalising him until he squirmed. 

It only happened once. Prowl’s aft rocked in his seat. To Chromedome it would appear as though he was readjusting himself but for Arcee it was a spoil of victory. 

Prowl’s restraint was under siege. His interface panel hot against Arcee’s cheek while she nibbled delicate wires hidden between his legs. 

Thighs twitched minutely, spreading just enough to allow her space to work harder. She supped and sucked on the glossy housing covering Prowl’s spike, willing the starved component out of its lonely home. 

It came as a surprise when Prowl subtly began pressing himself into her mouth and for the first time she felt a zap of electric charge - his charge - tickle her EM fields. 

Chromedome continued pestering them. The sap felt guilty about something apparently.  Arcee couldn’t imagine what, moreover she didn’t care, the sooner Prowl dismissed him the better. 

Behaving in such away woke her own charge. Being so wanton and making herself desirable to a mech with no documented relations made her feverishly excited and it spurred on the intensity of her ministrations. She lavished Prowl and soon enough earned her reward. 

Prowl couldn’t contain himself. His spike had pressed itself out of his housing some time ago. It was getting tighter and tighter as it bulged and grew. He did try to keep it hidden, he really, really did but... 

Resisting wasn’t an option when Arcee set her wayward mind to something. 

Prowl couldn’t tell what happened. The command refused to be blocked and soon Prowl’s needy spike escape its housing. With a hiss it rose and nudged inside the waiting, ravenous mouth. With pride Arcee swallowed as much as she could. 

There must have been something in his expression Prowl couldn’t hide because when his optics finally uncrossed Chromedome was glaring at him. 

“Was there something else?” Prowl managed by coughing the moans away from his vocaliser. Chromedome huffed. 

Under the table Arcee worked fervently. Prowl’s demanding charge trickled down his thighs. 

“Why don’t you take the night off Prowl you don’t seem yourself...”

Prowl grunted. It was all he could process when there was a glossa swirling over the musky head of his arousal then licking down the shaft, playing with every ridge and bump of his shape. 

“I plan to.” 

Such an easy and honest response took Chromedome by surprise. Normally Prowl was such a stickler for work, Chromedome’s thoughts tortured him with curiosity. Was Prowl sick? This was so abnormal it generated more concern than the stuttering whir of Prowl’s cooling systems. 

“Was there something else?” It was said with more petulance this time. Prowl’s inner systems hounding him to dismiss Chromedome and focus his attention on where it was most desperately needed.

Chromedome intercepted the abundantly clear message to move along. He bobbed his helm ( _Just like Arcee_ )

“No Sir, I’ll just...um see myself out.” Prowl’s fingers were curled round the edge of the desk, “Enjoy the doughnuts.” He listened for Prowl’s grunted dismissal and then _finally_ shut the office door. 

With a loud whine of relief Prowl braced both hands on his desk and pushed outward. The wheels on his chair squeaked as he rolled back, revealing Arcee. Her lips were stretched into a taught ring of silver round his spike as she sucked on him. Occasionally, her glossa would dart out and sweep the underside of the straining spike but mostly she focused on devouring the rest of him. 

Throwing his helm back Prowl groaned, releasing months of sex-starved frustration in one breath. 

A hand moved behind Arcee’s helm, was he about to prize her off? No. Soon he was pressing her down, forcefully trying to bury himself in the awaiting bliss. Prowl’s endowment wasn’t the largest, he was stout compared to others of his frame type, but that didn’t make him easier to swallow. When the tip of his spike touched Acree’s intake aperture she gagged, writhing round the spike, making Prowl flinch. He bounced in his chair, once, reacting to the threatening denta scraping over the tender ridges and nodes. 

Arcee resumed her own methods, quickly bobbing her helm. She planted both hands on Prowl’s abdomen and kneaded the tense metal. 

Prowl’s hand remained on the back of her helm, a silent commanded for more that she consciously ignored. She was certain he didn’t like that. Power and control were everything in Prowl’s games why would it be different in interfacing? 

As she drew her head up, Arcee firmly rubbed her tongue over the tip. Prowl’s fingers dug into her helm. He wasn’t gentle, his grip left marks. The vents aerating his body blasted hot gusts over her frame and when her devious hands crept down to press against the sensitive patch of nodes between his spike and valve Prowl’s face uncreased and he gaped, gasping for breath as he came. 

For Arcee it was unexpected. When jets of thick fluid flooded her mouth she pulled back reflexively. It didn’t taste good and it didn’t feel good when the last of it struck her face plate and dribbled off the smooth edges of her jaw. 

Prowl was collapsed in his chair, spread out, gasping for breath. 

Arcee was finally demonstrating some obedience. She remained under the desk, folded neatly, silent but glowing with smugness. When Prowl tilted his heavy helm to look down at her she was smiling. His transfluid dripping off her, landing in large pearly splats on her thighs. 

It was whimsical but he reached down and smudged some of it across her lips. She purred at the suggestion and lapped at his thumb until it was clean. Then Prowl was done. He pulled away, pushed his chair out from the desk and stood, the last dregs of pressure hissing out of his spike. 

He stood close to the door, not opening it but it was a hint. 

Arcee crawled out from her hiding space. 

“You’re not throwing me out looking like this are you?” Of course she wouldn’t let herself be seen, she was better than that, but as she used the desk to pull herself off the ground she did look strangely vulnerable. She reached up and touched some of his transfluid drizzled on her chest. It stuck to her fingers and she regarded it, “Oh Prowl I feel so _used._ ”

Prowl huffed like she was nuisance. 

“Clean yourself up first.” 

He watched Arcee as she carelessly glanced round the room. 

“But there’s nothing to use.” She sounded _so_ disappointed. 

Wasting no time Prowl marched back to his desk. By now his spike was slipping back inside him. In one of his desk draws he found a large sheet of polishing cloth that he handed over to her. Arcee flashed him a leery smile and Prowl pretended it didn’t put shivers through his spine. 

Slowly, seductively, she patted herself down fully aware that Prowl’s optics were glued to her curves so she moved in exaggerated sways on purpose. 

“What’s the matter Prowl?” She raised herself in a graceful stretch, “ You’re getting all hot again. Is it always this easy to get you worked up?” 

Prowl didn’t think that deserved an answer, although he did lower himself to grunt at her. 

It wasn’t at all to Arcee’s satisfaction. 

She made a tool out of the polishing rag, it was the perfect length to loop round Prowl’s rigid neck and steer him toward her. It happened quickly and Prowl hadn’t predicted it. When Arcee tugged on both ends of the rag Prowl stumbled against her, lips crashing together. One of Arcee’s slender hands cupped the back of his neck, holding him over her mouth while the other smoothly reached between his legs. 

“No!” Prowl tried to jerk back but Arcee was quicker than him. She pushed herself on him, following him when he tried to stumble back. Her kiss were fierce and lethal, Prowl whined into it, his legs closing round the invading hand and squeezing. 

Arcee lapped a string of lubricant off Prowl’s lips lazily and dragged her hand over his remerging spike. 

“I’m sorry, were you about to object?” 

Prowl was stuck, he certainly wasn’t denying her, the sleek hand toying with his re-emerging arousal was unbearably distracting.

“No?” Arcee’s hand abandoned his spike. She reached behind her and on the desk grope at Chromedome’s ‘gift’ until the package sprung apart and her delicate hands came into contact with the sticky surface of a glazed doughnut. Soon the confectionary was being pushed into Prowl’s mouth in place of her glossa. Prowl’s optics glowed with surprise as his jaw was forced apart and rich sweetness blocked his mouth. “Then relax.” 

He was hurriedly attempting to chew his way through the doughnut and object. The office door wasn’t locked for one thing, but his senses were soon swimming as Arcee kicked his feet from under him. Prowl flailed before he crashed into his desk, his chest buckling inward causing more damage to himself than the desk. He groaned loudly, but through the doughnut it was a low almost tired sound. 

“What’s that Prowl?” Arcee cackled, enjoying herself thoroughly as she twisted both his arms high behind his back until they almost touched his twitching door wings. Prowl chomped through the doughnut chaotically, spluttering crumbs over his polished work surface. He hated that. 

“Arcee!” He barked, still with half a mouthful, the sticky sweet treat along with the abrupt movement made him feel nauseated. 

Arcee finished twisting Prowl’s arms and tied them in place loosely with the polishing cloth. She was aware it couldn’t be comfortable from how he shifted, his joints must have been burning, but Prowl made no effort to free himself. He writhed against his desk. 

Arcee took a step back and admired the sight of the restless aft bucking and twitching as Prowl struggled to get comfortable and couldn’t. 

“You are quite beautiful, Prowl.” She commented, “It’s a mystery why Chromedome didn’t choose you.” 

…

Prowl’s body sagged like he’d been wounded, the aggression seeped out of his body and his optics drifted to the sight of the doughnuts Chromedome left behind. Arcee didn’t understand how deeply she’d stung him, all she saw was him gazing longingly  at some confectionary and assumed he wanted more. 

With one finger the hooked the corner of the box and dragged it closer. The honeyed smell was heady and it lingered round them. Prowl tilted his head to the side and stared and the puffy round rings stuffed with flavour and coated in pale pink. Chromedome had remembered how much he liked them and it only served to embitter Prowl even more. 

Angrily he thrust his aft at Arcee, nearly knocking her off balance. 

“Wow there!” She laughed, hands dragging across his smooth posterior, firmly handling him and squeezing, “Steady on.” She swatted his aft. Prowl jerked against the table. He was surprisingly vocal. 

Arcee laughed again. 

“When was the last time you got to do this?” 

A better question might have been when was the last time _she_ got to do this? She was unrealistically excited, Prowl could feel her charge crackle against his EM fields and it made him shudder. Presently, he didn’t know if he was aroused or miserable and the solution seemed to be in chewing another doughnut out of the box. If nothing else it would succeed in muffling his keens. 

He’d just managed to steer the doughnut into his mouth, his glossa swirling through the ring, at the same time Arcee sunk to her knees, the tips of her fingers clawing over his aft and raking down his thighs. Prowl teeth clamped down hard, biting through the doughnut and it crumbled over his tongue. 

“You’re really getting off on this aren’t you?” At optic level Arcee could see the wet sheen of lubricant dampening the hoods of his valve. It was sleek and black like the rest of his interface and still swollen with energon from his previous overload - the residual energy of it buzzed along her glossa when she swiped over the dainty valve. Prowl’s aft quivered above her and she couldn’t resist taking a bite. 

Prowl lurched back and fore of the desk making the metal creak and disguise his groans. The tip of his spike prodded the desk. He shifted forward a little so that the contact was constant and a thin vein of fluid trickled down the side of the desk. 

The vulgarity of his situation should have burnt his pride not kindled such desperation inside him. It had been a long time, and his valve was aching for it. When Arcee’s glossa firmed and breeched the shallows of it he was grateful there was something gagging his humiliating sounds. 

She hummed into him, pressing deeper until her nasal rigid rubbed over the outside. Prowl melted, oral lubricant welling out of the corners of his mouth turned the doughnut to soggy, unsatisfactory mush. The longer it continued, the ashamedly louder Prowl got. 

“What was that?” Arcee pulled back, his voice thick with mirth and arousal. Prowl heroically chomped through his treat quickly, swallowing it in large gooey mouthfuls. The stodgy substance caked in his stomach like an aching fullness. The same feeling he craved for his valve. 

“F-Frag.” He licked the sweet, sugary taste of his lips. 

“Frag what?” Arcee purred. She leaned over Prowl’s sore back, rubbing her hands all over his door wings, fiddling and tweaking them at the edges. Her firm spike dragged up his thigh and butted over the centre of his valve. Prowl’s optics flashed… it was so close, so close to being inside him. Arcee let him grind down, the folds of his valve fanned out around her girth in a barest, most maddening of stretches. “You?” She offered when Prowl seemed incapable of speaking. His face pressed against the desk, his cheek sinking into a puddle of cool oral lubricant. 

He couldn’t see her. He didn’t want to see her. Prowl didn’t want to admit what was happening to him or how deeply he craved it… how he missed it. 

“ _Please._ ” He whispered hoarsely. And off-lined his optics in preparation of the breach. But Arcee was intent on teasing him. The rubbed her spike’s head over his hungry valve until it was flushed and soggy. 

“Are you… _begging_ me?” Arcee asked like the concept was entirely astonishing. Prowl’s face twisted, grimacing. Was he supposed to answer? All he wanted was to release the tension writhing inside him like a sickness, “Tell me how badly do you want it.” 

Prowl’s lips quivered and he whispered again. 

“ _Please,_ ” This time his voice was breaking, “I want to be fragged…”

“ _Oh._ ” Arcee cooed into his audio and caressed his helm, treating him with more delicacy than he’d used when handling her.

Kindly, Arcee broke a doughnut in half and pressed it into Prowl’s willing mouth. Her hand closed over his lips to keep it trapped inside, “Get ready to scream.” She muttered. 

Prowl’s optics lit up bright. She’d ploughed inside him, cleaving open the callipers - they spiralled open wider than expected. Even with the doughnut and her hand Prowl’s howls were as loud as she’d expected. He convulsed and nearly choked. His valve twitching around her, sore and stretched. 

Arcee start to thrust, hard and brutal making small, lustrous sounds. She wasn’t striking deep enough. 

Prowl keened and tried to shunt the spike deeper inside. It wasn’t enough. He still felt empty. 

His jaw ached but he chewed the doughnut and, with effort, packed it into his churning tanks. The constant shaking, being humped up and down the desk was making him dizzy. 

“ _Arcee!”_ He gasped between her fingers and turned his face into the desk. The short, sharp stabs of her spike sawing his valve open addled his charge into a frenzy that _would not break_ , “ _Harder!”_ He demanded, though it must less a command and more of a despairing scream. 

Arcee’s spike lanced into him once, deep, then pulled out with a sloppy ‘pop’. It was the sound of Prowl’s needy valve trying to suck her back in an failing. 

She rolled him onto his back. Prowl went willingly. There was a wet crunch and a squish - Prowl had rolled onto the packet of doughnuts, ruining them, the gooey filling squirted out and exploded over his door wings which were crushed awkwardly under him.

“Oops.” Arcee found it funny, especially with Prowl lying in the middle of all the mess.It was picturesque. Prowl was panting, dribbling fluids and displayed slutishly for Arcee’s perverse enjoyment. 

“Deep down I think we both know you’re enjoying this.” 

Prowl didn’t care. He let his legs be hoisted onto Arcee’s skinny shoulders. They were so narrow she needed to grip his thighs in place. He was feeble, he couldn’t support himself and he agreed with everything she said because he deserved it. 

When Arcee thrust in again she plunged deep. She hit something at the back of Prowl’s valve and it _hurt_. His expression twisted, coolant pressure built behind his optics until they glistened. 

“Poor Prowl,” Arcee panted, “ Maybe if you let more people see you like this they’d start treating you more like a person and less like a machine.” 

And Prowl came undone. Arcee hit something and the throbbing source of pressure at the back on his valve seemed to burst. Lubricant gushed down his valve and more transfluid shot out of his spike. 

It took a couple tender moments, Prowl’s world was spinning, the discharge of the overload made him hot and uncomfortable in the mess he’d created. All the senses he’d neglected to consider while being fragged came rushing back to him. The horrid sticky feeling of crushed doughnut drying on his back, the ache in his twisted arm joints… the lethargic feeling of a massive energy discharge with no arms to hold him and sooth him through it… 

Prowl felt cold. 

Next his audio sensors rebooted to the beating sound of air being trapped over wet metal and his optics flickered online as he heard Arcee mutter a pleased sounded.

He watched, half horrified, half morbidly fascinated as she squirted transfluid all over his body. 

Her hands stopped moving in order to guide the last two spurts. They struck Prowl’s misshapen chest, the splatter reached as far as his face. 

Arcee seemed to consider this an achievement. She regarded Prowl with heartless satisfaction, like he was an object bent to her whims. 

In the meantime, while Prowl had been too senseless to acknowledge his own designation, she’d managed to retrieve the polishing cloth which had come loose during the rough ending to their session together. 

With a blithe smirk she tossed with cloth at him. 

“Why don’t you clean yourself up?” 

Her tone was bloodless, the jaunty cover dropped and Arcee disappeared like a shadow. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Any requests, message me :)


End file.
